


Taken

by jackson_nicole



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluffy Ivar moments, Intentions of Rape, Mentions of other abuse, Some Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 17:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackson_nicole/pseuds/jackson_nicole





	Taken

The sound of children laughing filled the woods as Bera ran through it, trying to get away from Ubbe, Hvitserk, and Ivar as they chased her down.

“You can’t catch me!” Bera called, giggling madly. Ubbe shifted Ivar on his back as they ran.

“Yes, we will!” Ivar called, laughing. Ubbe chuckled and panted, slowing to a stop to lean against a tree. “What are you doing, Ubbe?! Hvitserk is going to catch her before we will!”

Ubbe shifted his little brother again and said, “Ivar, you’re getting too heavy for me to do this. I need to rest.”

Ivar pouted and watched as Hvitserk whizzed by them, cackling.

“Come on, Ubbe! Move! Go, go, go!” Ivar whined. Ubbe groaned and followed him, catching up to him.

“Ivar, you’re getting too big! You’re almost 10!” Ubbe growled.

“Catch her, Ubbe!” Ivar shouted. Ubbe growled again and sped up, passing Hvitserk as they exited the woods. They ran through town, looking for Bera, but they had lost her. “See!? Now, we lost.”

Ubbe sighed and set Ivar down on a bale of hay nearby, leaning against the building and groaning.

“I need water.” Ubbe panted. He wandered off to find water as Ivar called after him, “You’re just going to leave me here?!”

Ivar crossed his arms and sighed. He felt something tickle his cheek and swatted at it as he turned. His hard face softened when he saw Bera’s smile beaming back at him. She giggled as Ivar reached out to grab her and moved away, quickly.

“Hey! No fair! I can’t walk!” Ivar called, laughing. Bera giggled and shrugged.

“I still win. I made it out of the woods.” Bera teased, twirling around. Ivar pouted again.

“Ubbe stopped. We would have caught you if he hadn’t.” Ivar said. Bera giggled and skipped over to him, sitting next to him.

“It’s okay. One day you’ll find a way to walk and then you can chase me all you want.” Bera said, patting his leg gently. Ivar smiled and took her hand.

“One day, I’ll be king,” Ivar said. “And I can do whatever I want. And I want you with me all the time. Then I’ll always win cause I caught you.”

Bera giggled and kissed his cheek. “We’ll see.” She hopped off the hay. “I have to go. I heard my mother calling when I came back into town.”

“Will you come to the hall tonight?!” Ivar asked. “There’s some big feast going on. I don’t want to sit alone.”

Bera giggled. “You sit with Aslaug. You’re not alone.” She said.

“Yeah, but she gets up and dances. Then I’m alone.” Ivar said.

“I’ll ask my mother. But I don’t know.” Bera said. Ivar smirked and said, “Tell her the prince demands your attendance!”

Bera covered her mouth and giggled, Ivar chuckling as well.

“I’ll tell her.” Bera swept herself down into a curtsy before turning and taking off. Ivar smiled and turned as Ubbe walked around the corner with a cup of ale.

“Ubbe, take me back to the hall. I’m hungry.” Ivar said. Ubbe sighed and said, “Yes, your majesty.”

Ivar smirked as Ubbe finished his ale and handed Ivar the cup before shifting him onto his back and carrying him to the hall.

~

“Ivar? Ivar. Ivar, are you listening?” Hvitserk’s voice broke into Ivar’s thoughts as Ivar came back to reality. He glanced around at his men and the battle plans in front of them. Ivar cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“Sorry. What?” Ivar asked. Hvitserk sighed and waved the men away, only Floki staying. Ivar sighed and rubbed his face. “What’s going on with you, Ivar? We need to be ready and you space out every time we talk about our plan of attack.”

“I’m perfectly aware of what we need to do, Hvitserk. Thank you.” Ivar said, giving him a look. Hvitserk smirked as he rolled up the map.

“You were thinking about Bera again, were you?” He asked, a slight teasing on the edge of his tone. Ivar shot him a look.

“And if I was?” Ivar asked. Hvitserk crossed his hands in front of him, still holding the map.

“You loved her. It’s understandable that you still mourn over her loss...When we were children.” Hvitserk said. Ivar slammed his palm on the table and pointed at him.

“I did not lose her. She was taken from us.” Ivar said. “I still search for her, Hvitserk. I cared about her enough to continue my search. I do not see you gathering men to find her.”

“That’s because she is probably dead, Ivar,” Hvitserk said. Ivar’s eyes glowed in anger. “She was taken when she was 13. She was barely blooming into a young woman. She was taken and most likely killed after being used for her body and beauty.”

Ivar cried out, flying at his brother and tackling him to the ground. The pair rolled off the short platform and Ivar landed on top of Hvitserk, gripping his shirt. Ivar lifted him off the ground and growled, “Never speak of her like that. She was a gift from the gods. An absolute angel. Do not speak of her as if she were nothing but a slave.”

“But she was very close to it, brother.” Hvitserk spat. “She was the daughter of the blacksmith. Barely worth anything but friendship. If she wasn’t taken when she was, she would have been married off to some old man and bore him his ugly sons.”

Ivar’s fist snapped across Hvitserk’s face, quickly and Hvitserk chuckled, flicking his tongue around his cheek, tasting blood. Floki sighed and hauled Ivar off his brother, righting him and brushing him off.

“You know, it doesn’t look good when brother turns on brother, much less when the king starts it,” Floki said, giving him a look. Ivar glared at Hvitserk as he stood then looked to Floki.

“You remember Bera, don’t you Floki?” Ivar asked, patting his chest, with an evil smile. Floki giggled and nodded. “You remember her well? Her kindness toward all of us, including me? Treated me like I was one of them.”

Ivar shot Hvitserk a look as he said ‘them’. Floki placed a hand on Ivar’s shoulder, making him turn back to him.

“She was a fine young woman, Ivar. But we do not know her fate. It is useless to continue to search for her. Mourn her, think of her, keep her always in your prayers to the gods. But let it go, my son.” Floki said. Ivar’s face hardened and he pushed Floki away as he stormed out of the tent and to his own. Hvitserk rubbed his chin as he stepped next to Floki, watching Ivar storm off in a huff.

“He’s still in love with her,” Hvitserk said. Floki giggled and glanced at him.

“Notice how he never addressed it the entire time?” Floki asked. “Of course he is. He never admitted it then, and he will never now.”

Hvitserk took a moment before he looked at Floki and said, “You do know she must be dead.”

Floki shrugged. “It is a high probability. But there is also the chance she survived.” Floki looked at the prince and said, “Unfortunately, there is no way for us to know.”

Hvitserk shook his head and sighed. “We still need to have a plan if we’re to go against Lagertha, and we need it now.” He said, walking out of the tent. Floki giggled again.

“All in good time, my good prince. All in good time.” Floki giggled and walked out of the tent, making his way to the river.

~

“Come along, wife! Don’t dawdle.” Earl Bard shifted, annoyed, on his horse, waiting for his wife to join them. A thin beauty walked out of the hall and mounted her horse. Her dark curls were hidden inside her hood that she never took down, her green eyes cast down. “It’s about time, Bera. I’ve told you we mustn’t be late. If we’re to get the king on our side we must be prompt!”

“Yes, my husband. I am sorry.” Bera said. Bard sighed and kicked his horse, taking off down the path, Bera close behind. Her silence wasn’t simply because her husband ordered her not to speak unless spoken to, but because of where they were headed. She hadn’t seen Ivar in nearly 6 years since the day she was taken. For the first three years, she was passed around from Earl to Earl as nothing more than a sex slave, until Bard felt a kindness for her and freed her, only to trap her again in marriage. Much to Bard’s dismay, she never bore him any children. Her pregnancies ended in miscarriages or stillborns. While it infuriated Bard that this used up old whore couldn’t produce legitimate children, he had children with the slaves that Bera looked after and took care of, as though they were her own.

“Now remember, wife. You do not look at the king, you do not speak to the king, you simply stand there and look pretty for him.” Bard said. Bera was so lost in thought, they had arrived quicker than she thought as she saw the Great Heathen Army’s tents scattered before her. Bard’s words pushed into her daze as he said, “If the king shall have you, have you he shall. Perhaps I can finally get a fucking child from your useless cunt.”

Bera glanced at him then turned away, hiding a smirk. They rode into the camp and tied up their horses before being led to the King’s Tent where Bera saw Hvitserk first. Her heart leapt to see a familiar face, though Hvitserk’s chubby childhood face had grown into that of a man. She glanced up at Ivar and had to shove her smile into the depths of her soul. He was so handsome. She still saw traces of the Ivar she knew as a child, though there weren’t much. She could have stared at him all day, but Bard grabbed her arm, tightly, making her whimper and look down. Hvitserk and Ivar saw the movement and Ivar shifted in his seat, his face twitching as Bard reprimanded her as they approached. He caught the tail end of his words and his face went hard in anger.

“...Or I swear to the gods, woman, I will have you whipped until you cannot move.” Bard hissed at her. Bard turned to face the king and held out his hands, smiling and bowing in respect. Ivar sneered. “My King…”

“You address me with respect, yet threaten your wife with harm?” Ivar said. Bard looked up at him, unsure of what to say. He opened his mouth, but Ivar continued. “You expect me to accept you as an ally when you mistreat your wife in public?”

“My King, she is a very difficult woman. I must keep her in her place. But I assure you, it has never gone beyond threats.” Bard said, thinking it would satisfy him. Ivar laughed.

“You should never threaten your wife. She is the woman you married, the woman you love! The mother of your children!” Ivar shouted.

“Actually, my King, we...Have no children. My wife is barren.” Bard said. Ivar raised an eyebrow.

“Truly?” Ivar mused. “Or perhaps it is just you.”

“Ivar.” Hvitserk hissed at him. “We need his army. Shut the fuck up and stop insulting him.”

Ivar snickered and sat back, waving a hand, telling Bard to continue. Bard cleared his throat and launched into his speech as to why Ivar should welcome him as an ally, but all Ivar could do is stare at this woman beside him as her hood remained up and her eyes were turned down. Her delicate hands were clasped in front of her as she waited patiently. Her dress was a deep purple, rimmed in a rich blue color with gold designs. He very much wanted to see her face and know if the beauty of her face matched the beauty of her body.

“...And so, my King. I give you my allegiance, if you shall have it, to fight in this war against the usurper queen and her brood.” Bard said, putting a hand to his chest and bowing once more. Ivar ripped his gaze away from the woman and smirked at Bard.

“I gladly accept, Earl Bard,” Ivar said. Bard sighed, relieved and smiled. “On one condition…”

Bard’s smile faltered as he looked up at him. Ivar stood and stepped down and over to his wife.

“Allow me to see your face, woman. And I shall give your husband my allegiance.” Ivar said softly, reaching up a hand to her hood. He slowly pushed it back and her curls tumbled down around her face as it remained looking downward. Ivar cupped her chin, gently.

“Look at the king, Bera.” Bard hissed. Hvitserk’s eyes widened and he looked to Floki, who had a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Hearing her name, Ivar cupped her face and lifted it. Slowly, Bera lifted her eyes to meet Ivar’s and smiled. Ivar’s heart heaved in his chest as he caressed her face, his eyes lighting up. He brushed his thumb over the small, raised scar on her cheek.

“I remember when you got this,” Ivar said, softly. “You challenged Hvitserk to a fight. Mother was furious when she saw the blood on your face.”

Ivar chuckled, fondly remembering the day. Bard looked between Bera and Ivar before he cleared his throat, coming to a frightening realization.

“You, uh, you have met my wife before, my King?” Bard asked. Ivar’s happy smile turned into a snide smirk as he turned to him.

“Yes. In fact, Bera and I grew up together in Kattegat.” Ivar said, dropping his hands from her face and turning fully to him. “It rather broke our hearts when she was taken from us. We had assumed the worst.”

“Yes, well, I-I did save her from-from the life she had,” Bard said.

“And what kind of life was that?” Ivar asked, taking a step toward him. Bera reached out and placed a hand on his arm, making him turn to her instantly. He smiled and lifted a hand, the backs of his fingers trailing over her cheek.

“That is a story for another time, my King,” Bera said, softly. Her voice damn near made Ivar fall to his knees, never having heard it in so long.

“Then we shall talk later,” Ivar said, softly. Bera smiled and removed her hand as Ivar turned to Bard. “You will be escorted to a tent and given what you need.”

“Thank you, my King. We shall take our leave in the morning. Our soldiers will stay with you until you call on me again.” Bard said, bowing his head. Ivar chuckled.

“You leave so soon.” He cast a glance to Bera and said, “You learn she was dear to me and wish to take her already?”

Bard blinked, stuttering for a response. Ivar smirked and went back to his throne.

“If you must leave, go. But Bera shall stay with me for a time.” Ivar said, sitting back. “I wish to hear her stories of her absence. I’m sure there is so much she has to tell us.”

Bard glanced at Bera, who had lowered her eyes once more, but her smile remained. Bard sighed and looked at Ivar. “Of course, my King. Then, in that case, I shall stay until you have released her. I should hate for my wife to be subjected to the will of your men. I shall stay as her protector.” Bard said, puffing out his chest in pride. Ivar snickered.

“You think I shall let harm come to our Bera?” Ivar asked, holding a hand to his heart. “She will be most protected here. If there is an urgency in your town and you must leave, please. I shall send her back with protection, rest assured.”

Bard’s chest deflated as he sighed. He bowed his head and turned to leave, Bera turning with him.

“Stay a moment, Bera,” Ivar said, holding out a hand toward her. A small smile pricked at his lips. “I wish to speak with you.”

Bera looked to her husband as he looked between them both. Bard sighed and nodded, waving her back as he walked out with his men. Bera turned and went to stand before Ivar, her eyes still down. Ivar waved off his men.

“Hvitserk,” Ivar said, looking to him. Hvitserk chuckled and said, “I am not allowed to speak with her? She was as dear to me as she was to you.”

Ivar simply stared at his brother in response until Hvitserk left, touching Bera’s arm, lightly. Floki giggled and closed the tent flaps. Once there was silence, Ivar stood and stepped down to her. He lifted her chin again and Bera gazed into his eyes that brimmed with the tears he was holding back. They stood there for a moment, both in shock and awe, then Bera threw her arms around him with a soft cry, burying her face in his neck. Ivar wrapped his arms around her waist and sighed into her hair.

“I thought you were dead.” Ivar managed to squeak out. Bera sniffed as she pulled back to look at him. She gave a soft smile and wiped the tears that slid down his face. She shook her head and said, “No. I survived, by the grace of the gods.”

Ivar sighed and cupped her face, marveling at the beauty she had become. He chuckled as he looked her over. “You grew to be a beauty, Bera. I curse the gods the day they took you from us.”

“It was the will of the gods, Ivar. But we were destined to find each other again.” Bera said softly, lifting up to kiss his cheek, softly. Ivar chuckled. Bera smiled and stepped back, Ivar taking hold of her hands, as she looked him over. “You can finally walk!”

Ivar laughed and pulled her back to him into a tight embrace. “I can. And I have been chasing you for years. Any word of where you were.” He said. Bera nuzzled his cheek and sighed as the embrace ended.

“None of that matters anymore. I’m here with you and Hvitserk now.” Bera said. Ivar’s face twitched when she mentioned his brother’s name. His jealousy for Bera’s affections was still as deeply rooted as when they were children. When Bera spent more days with Ubbe and Hvitserk riding, he made her sit with him all night when she returned. When she danced the night away with Sigurd, he claimed her the next day, not allowing her to spend time with his brothers. Bera giggled and touched her finger to his nose, gently. “Not still jealous, are you?”

Ivar smirked. “Of course, I am.” He said. Ivar pulled her closer once more, pressing his face into her hair. Bera eased her arms around his shoulders and closed her eyes, finally happy after so many years.

“Ivar. Ivar, I must return to my husband.” Bera said softly, in his ear. Ivar growled and tightened his hold on her.

“He doesn’t treat you right...Bera, has he ever hit you?” Ivar asked. When she didn't respond, Ivar pulled away and looked at her. She gave him a soft look but he pressed her again. “Does he hit you?”

Bera sighed. “He has. More than once when we first were married.” She admitted. Ivar moved around her to stalk out of the tent, but Bera caught his arm. “Ivar, please don’t.”

Ivar turned to her. “I shall strike down every man who has ever laid a hand on you!” He shouted.

“Then you would kill half the Earls in Norway!” Bera shouted back, her eyes shining with fresh tears. Ivar blinked, his rage softening. Bera bit her lip and pulled her hands away.

“Bera…” Ivar made to reach for her but Bera turned away.

“Three years.” She said. “Three years I was passed around like a whore until Bard freed me and married me.”

“You were a slave,” Ivar said, all emotion but sadness gone from his voice. Bera nodded and pressed her fingers to her lips.

“At first he was gentle and kind, never touched me until our wedding night. When I didn't become quick with child after a month, he began to ignore me and order me around as if I were his personal slave.” Bera said. “After a year, he began beating me. He said it was my fault that the gods cursed me to be nothing but a whore and withheld children.”

Ivar slid his hands over her arms and sighed. “I am sorry, Bera. I am sorry we couldn’t find you sooner and save you from all this.” He said.

“He was wrong,” Bera said softly. Ivar looked up and blinked, turning her to him.

“What do you mean?” Ivar asked. Bera gave a soft, tearful smile and said, “I bore 4 children. Fathered by different earls before I came to Byrne.”

“What happened to them?” Ivar asked, fearing the answer from the look in her eye.

“They died. Or at least that’s what I was told. Once I had the baby, they shipped me off to the next earl. Whenever I asked after that was always the response I received.” Bera said. Ivar shook his head and sighed. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as Bera buried her face in his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Bera. I promise you; Give me the names of the earls and I will find out myself what happened to your children.” Ivar whispered to her. Bera smiled, sniffling, and shook her head as she leaned out of the hug.

“No. It’s fine. I’ve made my peace with it.” Bera said. Ivar sighed and cupped her cheek. He stared at her for a while until a smile spread across his face.

“I just can’t believe you are here.” He said. “I never thought we’d be together again.”

“Neither did I, but I trusted the gods to guide me,” Bera said. They both chuckled. Bera sniffed again and wiped her face. “Um, I must return to my husband.”

Ivar nodded and let her go this time. He caught her hand and turned. “Sit with me tonight. At the feast. I won’t watch you next to him and see him berate you.”

Bera smiled and shook her head as she took a step toward him. “He won’t do anything while in your presence. He knows you would withdraw your allegiance or have him killed.” Bera said.

“Exactly. In my presence. What’s to stop him from abusing you in private?” Ivar asked. Bera reached up and touched his cheek.

“He can only assume that I would tell you, as I’ve told you of his previous abuse,” Bera said. “He’s my husband, Ivar. I have to go back. But I shall tell him of your request to have me by your side tonight.”

Ivar took her hand and kissed her palm. Bera gave him a small smile before pulling her hand away and walking out of the tent. Ivar sighed and rubbed his face as he turned to go back to his throne, sliding his hand over his eyes. He heard the tent flaps sound as they opened and sighed, knowing Hvitserk had strolled in and stood in front of him, waiting to hear what Bera had told him.

“Well?” Ivar sighed and dropped his hand to look at his brother.

“Well, what?” Ivar asked. Hvitserk chuckled and said, “What did she say? I wouldn’t know, because you forced me to leave.”

“I had to speak to her in private, Hvitserk. Things you didn't need to hear.” Ivar said. Hvitserk raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? As when we were children?” He asked. Ivar’s face hardened. “You do remember Mother’s fury when she caught you and Bera. You said it didn't go anything beyond a kiss but your cock said otherwise.”

“You had best watch your word,  _ brother _ .” Ivar hissed. “I never touched her that day nor any other day. I kissed her, yes, and she kissed me. Excuse me, if I wanted her but restrained myself out of respect for her purity.”

“If you truly respected her purity, you wouldn’t have kissed her at all.” Ivar stood quickly, but Floki walked in just as Ivar was going to tackle his brother again. Ivar huffed and dropped back down in his seat.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Floki asked.

“No, Floki. Not at all.” Ivar said, giving him a fake smile. A silence hung between the men before Ivar rolled his eyes, stood and walked out. “I’m not to be disturbed until the feast.”

~

One of Ivar’s men escorted Bera to Bard’s tent as she left Ivar. She walked in and bowed her head to her husband before going to her chest to change out of her riding clothes. Bard walked out from behind a separator and glared at Bera as his slave dried him off from his bath.

“And how was the king, my wife?” Bard asked in a hard voice. Bera nodded as she let the dress slip off her body.

“As I remember him from my childhood,” Bera said, softly. Bard pushed the slave girl’s hands away as she tried to do up his pants. Bard went to Bera and stood over her.

“And you didn't feel the need to tell me you knew King Ivar? You didn't at all, not once, think that would be knowledge I could have used?” Bard asked. Bera looked up at him as her slave girl tugged her dress down and tied the front.

“Would you have treated me different while we stayed here? You know now, and yet you lord over me as if to beat me again. You treat me no different, my lord.” Bera said. Bard chuckled and tugged on her arm to make her stand.

“Oh, I shall treat you different, Bera,” Bard said, sliding his hand over a breast. Bard turned her around and bent her over the bed. Bera braced her hands on the bed and clenched her fists. Before he could grasp at her dress, Bera stood and turned to him, pushing him away. Bard stumbled back in shock before he shot over to her and slapped her across the face, hard, the power behind it throwing her down to the bed. “You will not deny me what is rightfully mine!”

“What you took, you mean, my lord!” Bera shouted, looking up at him through the tears as a few errant curls slipped across her face. “You freed me only to marry me to legally take what you wanted! You never wanted me for anything less than my beauty and to bear you sons!”

“Which I now see I shall never have because the gods have cursed your womb!” Bard shouted back.

“Or perhaps the gods cursed your cock!” Bard chuckled at the taunt.

“You forget,  _ wife _ , I have many children born of my slaves. Are you to tell me they are not my children?” Bard asked.

“They have cursed you with no legitimate heir. Divorce me and marry one of your children’s mothers if you want an heir who will be accepted and not your bastards!” Bard’s hand shot out to grip her neck, making Bera gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. He’d never laid a hand on her like this, only smacked her around. Bera clawed at his hand as she gasped for air. Bard pulled her closer and hissed, “You are my wife. You will start acting as such. If I have to force a slave onto you to get you with child, then so be it.”

Bard shoved her back onto the bed and Bera gasped for air as she gingerly touched her neck.

“You will remember your place tonight and play the part of faithful wife. You’re to forget Ivar and have eyes only for me. Am I understood?” Bard asked. Bera glared at him and smirked.

“I would...If the king had not requested me by his side at the feast.” Bera said. Bard’s fists clenched at his side.

“You lie.” He hissed.

“Ask him yourself. Or better yet, refuse if you think I speak false. See what he does when I do not join him and Hvitserk at their table.” Bera said. Bard sneered.

“Then see, we shall. You thought this little stunt would get you away from me? I am your husband and you will never leave me.” Bard said, turning on a heel and storming out, but not before he grabbed a shirt from his slave and tugged it on. Once Bard had left, the slaves rushed to their mistress and helped her stand.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Bera said, holding up a hand to stop their fawning. Bera’s slave poured a cup of ale and handed it to her. Bera smiled warmly at the girl and thanked her before taking a sip. She sighed and turned to her. “Has he left any marks? On my face or my neck?”

The slave girl glanced at the others, afraid of answering. Bera smiled and took her hand.

“It is alright, Cerys. Tell me.” Bera said. Cerys nodded.

“Yes, my Lady. His handprint on your face and fingers around your neck.” She said. Bera’s mouth curved into a wicked smirk.

“Inform the king that my husband has declined his request,” Bera said, turning to sit in a chair, beckoning another slave to arrange her hair. Cerys looked at the other slaves before nodding and walking out of the tent.

~

Cerys found Hvitserk before she found Ivar and relayed the message. But Hvitserk decided against telling his brother, knowing it would anger him more than seeing her at Bard’s side. But what angered Ivar more was when Bard declined the feast and hurried Bera back to Byrne as they ate. Ivar was furious and started to mobilize his men to march on Byrne, but Hvitserk stopped him.

“Ivar, think about this!” Hvitserk shouted as Ivar paced his tent.

“I have thought about it! He abuses her, Hvitserk! I’ll not let him touch her again!” Ivar shouted. Hvitserk stalked to his brother and took his face.

“If you march on Byrne, on our ally, for a  _ woman _ , you will lose all respect from our other allies! You will lose our men! For a woman?!” Hvitserk shouted. Ivar shoved him away.

“She is not just any woman! Bera is more than just a woman, and you know it, Hvitserk! If you were in my position, you would do the same thing!” Ivar shouted.

“I am in your position! I care about her as much as you do, but you have to think of the army and our cause! You’re putting all our hard work at risk for her!” Hvitserk said. Ivar huffed and curled his fists. “Send for her. Just her. Bard cannot refuse a king. If he says you are no real king, then have Harald send for her. But do not march on Byrne to try and take her back! She’s married!”

Ivar turned and growled, cracking his knuckles. “It shouldn’t be this way…” He hissed.

“It shouldn’t,” Hvitserk said.

“She should have stayed with us. She shouldn’t have been taken! I curse the gods for subjecting her to this horror!” Ivar said, whirling on him.

“And there is nothing you can do to change the past now!” Hvitserk shouted. Ivar growled and gave a small shout as he huffed and stormed up to his throne. He sat down and glared down at his older brother. Hvitserk sighed and shook his head.

“Ivar, I know you care for her and you love her. But she is married and you cannot change that now.” Hvitserk said. He stepped up and spread a map across the table and looked at him. “Focus your rage on the woman who killed our mother and the brothers that betrayed us.”

Ivar sneered and rolled his eyes before looking the map over and slowly beginning discussions for war.

~


End file.
